That's Not My Name!
by stay.traught.i'm.deactivated
Summary: -Hermione stood up violently. "Gosh dammit, Malfoy! My name is Hermione, Hermione freaking Granger! None of your stupid nicknames!" she bellowed.-   Rated K plus for language and because I'm paranoid.


**That's Not My Name!**

Yes, another Dramione one shot typed from the endless awesome that is my iPod Touch. :) It was fun...getting rid of this evil plot bunny that was trying to eat my brain alive. xD

I hope they're not too OOC...

Disclaimer: Enough said.

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><p>It was a wonderful, beautiful, calm Friday evening in late August.<p>

Draco Malfoy gallivanted into 22 year old Hermione Granger's flat. Well, he actually apparated to her door, used "Alohamora" on her lock, and barged in dramatically. Apparently Malfoy's don't knock...

"Hello, my little Mudblood," he grinned, sweeping his five year girlfriend into a big hug. "How many times have I told you that I don't like that name, Draco?" Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes good naturedly. "But I'm the only one that's allowed to call you that, pet," he said sweetly.

"So, what's wrong? Did your father complain about me... again?" "Of course not, love. He stopped after year three, don't you remember?" Hermione smiled at the memory. "Yes, you threw quite the sissy fit, Draco." "That was a perfectly civilized debate, dearie! Malfoy's don't throw _sissy fits_!" he said haughtily. "Of course not, Draco. You just debate in a very high pitched, whiny voice," she said soothingly. "Malfoy's aren't high pitched, either, my little Mudblood." She rolled her eyes again, at the pet name and at Draco's blatant denial. "Of course you aren't, dear."

"Damn straight I am," he mumbled. Hermione cleared her throat. "So, what do you want for dinner, Draco?" It was her turn to provide the food for that weekend visit.

Now, despite popular belief, Hermione does not have bad skills at cooking. One would have to actually HAVE some skills to make into horrible ones, to begin with. Hermione Granger doesn't have any skills whatsoever. Popular belief says she is **bad** at cooking. The truth is, she absolutely **sucks** at cooking and disgraces cooks everywhere.

"Merlin knows you can't cook, dear Gryffindork. Just get some Muggle take out. What was it called? Piece-ah?"

"It's pizza, Draco. Peets-ah," she enunciated loudly and clearly. "Ah, yes, Miss Know It All, _that_ was the name," he announced knowingly. She laughed lightly before going to order in a pizza from the nearest parlor.

When she returned, she sat down across from the blonde at her small, round table. "I hope you like vegetarian pizza, Draco." He just shrugged. "What ever you want is fine, milady," he said playfully. "How kind of you, sir," she giggled, playing along.

"I'll be right back, okay, Draco? I have to pick up our food. Can you set the table for me while I'm gone?" "Of course I can; you go, my little brunette." She put on her coat and gave him a quick hug before leaving through the door. When Hermione came back with the pizza, the table was set with two plates and two glasses of champagne, with a single, unlit candle in the center for decoration.

"I must say, Draco, it looks very nice," she said, setting the box down on the table. "Of course it does, Missy Prissy," he said haughtily. Draco pulled back a chair for Hermione and then sat himself down.

Dinner passed quickly, Hermione rambling on to her boyfriend about how Ginny was pregnant again and she was having a boy this time. Apparently Ron had proposed to Pansy, and it was nice of Draco to set the two up. The two were planning on having a wedding some time in the winter, apparently. He just smiled and nodded, not really saying much and politely letting the brunette talk.

**-d-m-h-g-**

When dinner was done, the table was cleared, and the dishes were washed, Hermione sat back down across from Draco.

"Draco?" Hermione asked. "Yes, my sweet bookworm?" "You haven't said my name once since you've been here," she noticed. Hermione cocked her head to one side. "Why?"

"What do you mean, love?" he asked innocently. "See? There you go again!" she gasped. "Darling, calm down. You'll wake the neighbors," he drawled. "Draco, don't you give me that innocent crap," she said sternly. "I don't know what you're talking about, my little Mudblood."

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, you know damn well what I'm talking about," she said in an angry, annoyed tone. "Enlighten me, oh wise and powerful know it all," he requested in a kiss up tone.

She stayed quiet and glared at him, arms crossed. "I'm waiting, Madame bookworm." Her eye twitched as she glared at Draco's perfectly calm face. "Yes, kitten?"

Hermione stood up violently. "Gosh dammit, Malfoy! My name is Hermione, Hermione freaking Granger! None of your stupid nicknames!" she bellowed.

Draco quickly bolted out of his chair and grabbed Hermione by the wrists. "No it isn't, love," he whispered into her ear. "What do you mean?" she hissed back. Draco took something out of his pocket and quickly slipped it onto Hermione's hand.

"I think Hermione Malfoy sounds better, don't you? That being said," Draco paused, grabbing Hermione's hand and kneeling down on the floor in front of her,

"Hermione Granger, will you marry me?"

Hermione just stood there frozen, for a few moments. "Hermione?" Draco whispered. Her face cracked into a huge grin, and she pulled Draco up and kissed him hard. Draco immediately responded and hugged her close. When she was finally out of air, which was about a few minutes or less, Hermione pulled back.

"Yes, I will, Draco."

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><p>Awww, you can't resist the fluff! :D<p>

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